


the taste of your lips says we shouldn't have met like this

by rememberingsunday



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band), All Time Low, Fall Out Boy, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: F/M, M/M, Peterick, basically 5sos owns a coffeeshop, coffee shop AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-02
Updated: 2014-06-30
Packaged: 2018-02-03 04:55:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1731953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rememberingsunday/pseuds/rememberingsunday
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>basically, the boys own a coffee shop and ashton swears to god it's turning into a fucking romance novel or something.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> like my first coffee shop au hope you guys like it omg :)

“I don’t think that it’s a good idea.”

“Well,” Ashton grins at Michael. “Luckily, I am the boss here.”

“Whoa, wait,” Luke cuts in. “I think I am. I helped you pay.”

“Fine,” he agrees. “Co-boss. But we need a frappichino machine, we’ve got to be _hip,_ man, gotta keep up with the _times.”_

“Sorry but he’s right, Mikey,” Calum shrugs, unwrapping a biscotti and shoving it into his mouth. “Before we know it, Starbucks is going to take over and we’ll be left dead.”

“Like I’d let that happen,” Ashton snorts.

“Over my dead body,” Luke nods.

“Fucking corporates and their tacky coffee,” Michael mutters.

“Look,” Ashton sighs, leaning back. “We’ll talk about this later, it’s almost opening time and you know how the morning rush is.”

It’s kind of ugly, is what it is.

The coffee shop Ashton (and Luke) own is on the corner of Mango Street, which doesn’t at all resemble the pleasant fruitiness of mangos, nor the smell. It’s a typical city street.

The coffeeshop itself is cute (courtesy of Luke – he’s all about interior decorating and has a fondness for anything purple) with these fluffy chairs and tables and a lot of “fairy lights” strung about the place (“No, fuck no, those are fucking _Christmas lights,_ Luke, I will not have my masculinity destroyed anymore by your purple obsession”) and big windows.

Ashton always gets there first, flipping the lights on and starting the coffee machines. Luke usually arrives second, blonde quiff not a hair out of place, then Calum, who bounces in like a puppy on drugs (Ashton swears that boy has an IV that just constantly caffeinates him) and then finally Michael, who stumbles in sleepily, eyes half closed and moaning about how he needs coffee, _now._

Then the mornings turn into afternoons, and Ashton is in charge of the coffee machines and does the orders.  Michael mans the espresso maker, Calum does “decorating” (“No, man, you don’t get it. Whipped is an _art,_ Ash, an _art.”)_ and Luke mans the table, easily seducing customers with his shy smiles and frickin’ hot as hell lip piercing.

It’s a system.

It works.

“I’m so fucking tired,” Michael sighs, standing up and stretching. His back makes a popping sound and he makes a face. “Did you hear that? My fucking body is breaking, I’m that tired.”

Luke rolls his eyes at him, because honestly Michael’s a little bit dramatic.

Actually, a lot.

Calum’s just got all the chairs off the tables before the bell above the door chimes and the first customer enters.

See, they’ve all got regulars. First there’s Alex, a guy in his early twenties with auburn-y hair and always orders mochas. He’s best friends (and possibly dating) with Jack, who has this blonde streak through his hair and _never stops fucking talking._ Then there’s this short blonde guy named Patrick, who shows up with an adorable smile (they’ve all decided Patrick is the cutest person ever) and he has this thing for coffee with a fuck ton of sugar in it. Michael claims he gets diabetes from touching it.

Then there’s Pete, who stalks Patrick and always leaves these sweet slightly verging on creepy notes for him all over, from his coffee cup to in his backpack (no one can tell if Patrick enjoys it or not – he always turns pink and stammers for a moment before getting up and leaving rapidly. Pete just laughs at him) and he never settles on one drink, from hot chocolate to coffee to just biscotti.

Then Brendon, who is this totally ridiculous nineteen year old that just giggles all the time and is pretty much hyperactive. He has a huge crush on Ryan, the poetic guy who sits in the corner and writes on his laptop.

Of course, there’s those other people that show from time to time that they kind of remember the name of but don’t get dubbed a regular; like Harry The Hipster (the nickname is accurate – the boy wears nothing but ugly shirts and listens to bands no one else has ever heard of and is obsessed with tea) and Louis, the sassy stereotypical gay guy who enjoys flamboyant red skinny jeans.

Alex is here first.

This is always a key part in the Alex Drink Order, because they always somehow mess up his mocha, somehow. Calum just waits for his lip to curl as he sips his drink and for him to glare at them. They get far too much amusement from it.

“Oh,” Alex sighs faintly. “Wow, this is actually good.”

“My whole day is ruined,” Calum announces. Alex glares at him.

Jack shows up not long after and kisses Alex sloppily on the cheek, collapsing next to his possibly boyfriend (no one is sure) before bouncing up to order.

“Mango smoothie,” Jack chirps, running in place. “Did you know the name of this street is mango? I try to always order mango smoothies to keep up the name, y’know. So maybe it’ll actually start smelling like mangos or something. The shop smells good, though – kind of like chocolate and coffee. Which I guess makes sense, because, you know, coffee shop.”

“Jesus,” Michael mutters over the sound of the machine crushing ice.

Jack doesn’t notice and keeps on rambling about smells while Ashton waits for him to hang over the money. He doesn’t really mind his ramblings, but it’s only like, nine am or something (it’s actually ten) and far too early for this kind of thing.

“Thanks,” Jack beams when Calum hands him his smoothie. “Keep up the good work, guys.” He goes to sit by Alex and they start scribbling furiously on notepads.

Since Jack and Alex are the only ones in the shop at the moment, Ashton leans against the counter, sighing heavily. He sometimes gets tired of constantly being surrounded by people, because he fucking lives with Michael and Calum and Luke and literally hates everyone sometimes (except for Luke, he never hates Luke) and he also works with them, and it’s like, a serious invasion of personal space.

Such a thing doesn’t exist in the Hemmings/Clifford/Hood/Irwin apartment. The amount of times Michael has just _walked in_ on Ashton while he was having a wank, or taking a shower, or doing _some_ sort of personal thing has reached infinity.

Usually, though, he loves them because honestly, if it was anyone else he was living with, he’d have killed them by now. But Michael, Calum, Luke and him actually worked pretty well.

The door opens and breaks Ashton out of his reverie. It’s the twins, that they actually don’t know the name of due to them never fucking leaving their actual names (probably just annoy them, fuckers) but they show up enough to recognize them.

“Can I have a large mocha?” Twin One asks, grinning at Ashton like she doesn’t know the frustration they cause every day.

“Sure,” Ashton agrees. “Name, please?”

“… Dan Smith.”

The thing is, they wouldn’t even know if it was their real names or not except they always choose celebrity names (like Bastille guy) and it’s just literally so frustrating (Calum finds the whole thing endlessly amusing – whatever, he doesn’t know what it’s like. Ashton needs to know the name of all the regulars. It’s _important)._

Twin Two steps up. “Same as her.”

Ashton’s jaw twitches. “Name, please?” He tries to keep the tension out of his voice.

“Elton,” she shrugs, looking mildly apologetic.

He narrows his eyes at her. She smiles.

Groaning, Ashton calls the order back to Michael and Calum. Luke pushes behind the counter with Jack’s cup balanced on a tray that’s perched on his admittedly sexy hips. Ashton really loves Luke’s hips. They’re like mountain hideaways.

Also, Luke keeps hinting that he has a secret tattoo. The very thought kind of makes Ashton’s mouth water. Where could it be? _What_ could it be?

Images of drum sticks inked on to the pale skin of Luke’s lower back dance through his mind. Drums plus Luke equal his favorite things. Ever.

Ashton’s kind of lost track of how long he’s had this thing for Luke. Almost six months ago. It all started when the whole “lack of privacy” thing resulted in Ashton walking in on Luke jacking off to some weird gay porn (yeah Luke has a thing for like, rape – Ashton tries not to judge) and then this ridiculous thing started.

“Fucking twins,” Michael mutters as he violently slams the drinks down on the countertop, causing them to slosh over the side a little.

Ashton snorts. Michael totally has a crush on Twin 2 so he can act unhappy at them all he wants.

“Hello, Purple,” Twin 2 wriggles her fingers at him.

“Hi, _Elton,”_ Michael glares. She just laughs at him.

“AND THE WALLS KEPT TUMBLING DOWN, IN THE CITY THAT WE LOOOOVE,” Twin 1 screeches, causing Alex to look up and sigh loudly.

“You’re no Dan Smith,” Jack says bluntly.

“No way,” she snorts. “Really?”

“Like we’d know,” Luke points out. “Since we _don’t know your names.”_

They just giggle to themselves.

The twins go to sit down in the window seat, muttering to each other. Ashton catches the words “Ross” and “Strawberry Shortcake.”

Whatever.

**

Sometime around noon, Jack and Alex leave, leaving napkins with little doodles of penises everywhere, and Brendon comes in, a blinding smile slapped on his face and a puppy in his arms.

“What the actual fuck,” Ashton mutters to himself, staring at the cute, fluffy golden ball of adorableness.

Brendon beams at him. “This is Panic!”

“Panic?” Luke asks doubtfully. He proceeds to do that wonderful thing where he like, nibbles on his lip ring. Fuck, the thing that lip ring does to Ashton.

“Yeah,” Brendon nods happily. “My baby.”

“Okay, why not,” Michael shrugs.

They’re interrupted as Ryan pushes through, looking his typical deep, poetic self. He’s got big glasses and his hair falls in his eyes. A huge ass notepad is tucked under his arm, and headphones trail out of his ears. Ashton’s sure he’s listening to either something super emo or like, Mozart.

Brendon instantly turns pink and Panic starts licking his face.

Ryan doesn’t notice, and heads into the corner table in the back, setting up his laptop and notepad. Then he gets up and heads over to the counter.

“One hot chocolate, please,” he says to Ashton politely.

Ashton nods, then leans forward. “By the way, I’d keep your notepad closed.”

Ryan’s eyes shoot over to his notepad, which is open and displaying a beautifully drawn picture of Brendon (Brendon hasn’t noticed). He turns red and rushes over, slamming it shut.

“Did he see?” He asks Ashton nervously, returning to the counter.

“No,” Ashton replies, amused. “But he likes you too, you know.”

“Uh-huh,” Ryan raises his eyebrow. “Sure. Thanks, Ashton.”

“No problem.”

Ryan heads back to the table. Brendon watches him go longingly.

Ashton shakes his head. How did a coffee shop turn into a fucking romance novel?

**

The shop clears out again at about four, and there’s half an hour of peace.

“I am never staying up late again,” Michael announces, yawning hugely and collapsing on the floor. “Ever. Eight hours every night, from now on.”

“You say that all the time, mate,” Calum points out. Luke nods in agreement from where’s he wiping down a table.

The blonde boy comes back behind the counter, tucking his washcloth into his apron and unknowingly causing Ashton to have unwanted fantasies about fucking Luke in a chef uniform.

And, yeah, better start thinking of something else before he embarrasses himself.

“Yeah,” Ashton says loudly, deciding he needs a smoothie. “You do, Michael.”

“No need to shout, geez,” Michael responds, rolling his eyes at him. “Just because I have a life – “

“’A life’,” Luke mocks, grinning. “ _A life._ More like a lack thereof. All you do is go on Tumblr and look at memes of cats.”

“Invasion of privacy,” Michael glares at him.

Calum laughs loudly. “Dude, you’ve all walked in on me having sex with girls like, forty times each. Don’t bring up “invasion of privacy.””

Which, Ashton has to admit, is true.

“I liked that one lass,” he muses. “Y’know, the one with the hair?”

“ _The one with the hair,”_ Michael says, using his fingers in quotes. “Very helpful, Ash.”

“Shut up,” Ashton rolls his eyes.

“I know which one he’s talking about,” Luke chimes in helpfully. “The one with the really intense hair. Y’know, all pink and green and rainbow?”

“Ohh, yeah,” Calum nods. “She was fit.”

“Whatever happened to her?” Michael wants to know.

“One night stand kind of thing,” Calum shrugs in a “whaddya gonna do” way. “Left the next morning. Never called.”

“Aw, Cal, I’m sorry,” Luke says. His regretful tone is marred by how obviously he’s trying not to laugh.

Calum glares at him.

The door opens and there’s Patrick.

Patrick is adorable. There is no other word for it. He has raspberry blonde hair that sticks out of his fedoras in wisps, and big green blue eyes. His lips are soft and pink and Ashton is pretty sure they’ve all thought about fucking him at least once.

But sadly, he belongs to Pete.

Speak of the devil, Pete comes bursting in, red hair perfectly swept to the side and eyeliner pristine. Pete is kind of really hot – tanned and tattooed and hella fucking gay.

Or, well, maybe not quite. Ashton’s heard him talk about how he’s “gay above the waist”. He still doesn’t know what that means.

Pete’s eyes alight on Patrick and his face just _lights up_ and he swaggers over to where the tiny blonde guy is standing in front of the counter.

Oh, right. Counter. Take order.

“What can I get for you today, Patrick?” Ashton asks, smiling at him. Patrick is just an awesome person all around, really.

“A coffee would be amazing, thank you,” Patrick smiles back, looking shy and polite. Ashton totally understands Pete’s obsession.

“Of course,” Ashton nods and gestures to Michael, who immediately starts making it without even one snide comment.

Patrick has a positive effect on them all, actually.

As soon as the cute guy goes to sit down at a table, Pete leans across the counter and whispers, “Hey, could you write “did it hurt when you fell from heaven” on there?”

Michael raises an eyebrow. “Okay. Sure.”

Once Patrick’s diabetic coffee is made, Luke sighs heavily and scribbles on the brim of the cup, “Did it hurt when you fell from heaven? ~ Pete” and takes it over to Patrick.

Patrick looks up from his book (Ashton swears, if he’s reading a fucking Harry Potter book, he might kill himself at his perfection) and smiles up at Luke sweetly. “Thank you!”

“Of course,” Luke smiles back, one dimple flickering. Ashton sighs longingly.

Patrick reads the black Sharpie on the side of the cup and turns bright, bright red. He looks up, flushing, and meets Pete’s gaze, who grins at him happily.

“Uh, uh,” Patrick stammers, standing up hastily. “I, uh, got to run.” He rushes out the door, book clutched in hand.

Pete sighs. “He’s in love with me.”

Ashton kind of doubts that, but hey, whatever helps him sleep at night.

Eventually, after Pete hangs around for a good two hours, Luke finally kicks him out so they can close down the shop. It’s dusk out and Ashton is tired.

They lock the doors to the coffee shop and head on home, Luke walking too close and not close enough to him.

 _Just another average day,_ Ashton thinks tiredly. Maybe tomorrow Luke will love him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ashton dyes his hair and they realize patrick can sing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idk green ashton sounds hot

Luke doesn’t love him yet.

Ashton thinks maybe it’s his hair.

Since he faked sick (no regrets, none at all), Luke, Calum and Michael offered to run the shop today, with much grumbling from Purple.

And now he’s here, observing himself in the mirror with this little box of hairdye next to him.

Yeah, yeah he knows he shouldn’t change himself for a boy. But Luke’s not just any boy, and besides, Ashton wants a change anyways. Who needs brown hair anymore? Not him, that’s who.

“ _Enticing Emerald,”_ he reads doubtfully. Would this shade of emerald entice Luke? Hopefully.

It seems pretty simple; massage it into his scalp, leave it for an hour, then shower. Okay. Ashton can this and probably not mess it up, maybe.

**

Two hours later and his hair is “Enticing Emerald.” It looks pretty good, he thinks. A nice color of green. Matches his eyes a bit.

If Ashton was brave enough to  get a lip piercing, he would. Then he’d look pretty badass. A street thug, raised in the ghettos of Detroit, yo.

He makes a mental note to stop listening to Calum’s rap.

Ashton makes faces at himself in the mirror, wondering if Luke will like it, or if he should have gone for a different color. Maybe a soft lilac. But that wouldn’t be manly. And god knows his masculinity is diminished enough by Pinky and Luke’s obsession with purple. Green is very manly, he decides. Far better than lilac.

He spends the rest of the day lying on the couch, watching re runs of Friends (Chandler + Monica = forever) and running his hand through his newly Enticing Emerald hair.

**

The lads get home sometime after six. Ashton is snoozing happily on the sofa, Criminal Minds playing in the background, a blanket tucked cozily around him.

“Oh, bother,” Luke says.

“Equivalent to motherfucking shit fuck, Winnie the Pooh,” Michael corrects, rolling his eyes at Luke.

“What did Ash to do his hair?”

“I don’t fucking know, Cal, we all just got home.”

“Michael, be nice,” Luke chides. Michael mutters ‘sorry’ to Calum.

Ashton stirs and stretches, his shirt riding up and revealing some of his hip bone. Calum notices Luke’s gaze riveted on the spot and wonders what that is about.

“Ash,” Michael says slowly. “Why is your hair green?”

“Enticing Emerald,” Ashton corrects sleepily.

Michael thinks he hears Luke mutter, “Enticing is right,” and shoots him a queer look.

But it’s true; Ashton’s hair is a deep shade of what can only really be called emerald. Irritatingly enough, he can pull it off. Michael pouts.

“Whatever,” Calum shrugs, heading into the kitchen. “It better not affect our business.”

Ashton snorts loudly. “We have Pinky over here, I doubt that.”

Michael hits him.

**

When Ashton gets into the shop three days later, there’s a stand off going down.

Some guy with intense tattoos and another with some sort of Afro are yelling loudly at Pete, who’s just picking his nails and occasionally glancing over at Patrick, who is pretending not to listen.

“It is far too early for this shit,” Ashton sighs heavily, pushing past Tattoo and Afro to get to the counter. Luke greets him with a hot coffee and a smile and his day gets a little bit better.

“So, who do you think that is?” Ashton nods to Tattoo, eager to begin one of his favorite past times – gossiping about the customers.

“I think I heard Pete call him Andy,” Luke shrugs, leaning against the counter. His hip brushes against the side of Ashton’s stomach and just, fuck him and his tallness. He’s like a giant. His head’s practically lost in clouds.

“And Afro?”

“Joe, I think?”

Ashton and Luke make eye contact and snigger in unison (get it, because _cup of joe –_ yeah okay, maybe it’s not so funny but whatever).

“I really like your hair, Ash,” Luke says softly, smiling at him. Ashton knows and categorizes Luke’s smiles – there’s the Polite One, the Shit That Was The Funniest Thing I’ve Ever Heard In My Life one, the Happy one, and, Ashton’s favorite, the Fond, I Love You So Much How Are You Even Real one.

He’s smiling the last one now.

Ashton beams. “Thanks, Lukey,” he smiles.

Luke grins at him, and Ashton can feel his hip burning his touch. It’s like he’s touching the fucking sun.

**

The twins stop by sometime around one o’clock, and their names are Lindsey Lohan and Leonardo DeCaprio today.

“A god of a man,” Michael declares. “Inception was like the angels’s tears.”

“Definitely,” Twin 1 agrees. “D’you think 500 Days Of Summer guy and the chick who played Juno got together?”

“Well yeah, I mean he _kissed her-“_

 _“_ That’s what I thought! But my sister…”

Ashton rolls his eyes at them and focuses on Luke instead, who is tapping on the counter thoughtfully. It’s raining today, and he watches the drops roll down the glass.

“Hi! Your aprons are really nerdy, did you know that? Like, I know you guys own this shop so why not make your uniforms something super hot, like leather and spikes and tattoos? That’s what I would have done. It would have been fabulous. But I guess aprons are alright too, this isn’t really a punk coffee shop. More of the “flower crowns tea sweater” vibe, y’know?”

So Jack’s here.

“Yeah,” Ashton agrees vaguely, trying to pretend he heard a word the man just said. “Um. What would you like to drink?”

“Ooo, a mango smoothie please!”

“Wow,” Twin 2 says faintly. “He talks a lot.”

“Yep,” Ashton agrees. “He does.”

She looks a little awed. He knows the feeling.

“So,” Ashton leans across the counter, looking up at Twin 2 with from beneath his eyelashes. “When can we know your real names?”

She looks flustered by the onslaught of Ashton. He knows he can be pretty adorable if he wants to.

“Um,” she stammers. “Uh. I don’t know.”

“Well,” he smiles at her as innocently as possible. “When you’re ready.”

She mumbles something about her sister and walks away.

“You killed her,” Luke comments as Ashton stands up, smirking.

“She died happy.”

Luke rolls his eyes. “Okay, Ash. A bit full of yourself huh?”

“Maybe,” he winks at the blonde, who interestingly turns as red as a cherry. Luke is adorable when he blushes, Ashton’s got to admit.

“Ay!” Michael calls from where he’s obviously flirting with Twin 2. “Break it up, lovebirds, and come take his order!”

Ashton had been so distracted he didn’t even notice that Patrick was now standing in the shop, watching Michael flirt with Twin 2 in amusement.

“Oh, right,” Ashton quickly slides to the ordering counter and smiles at Patrick. “What can I get you today?”

“Hot chocolate,” Patrick tells him, a cute smile lighting up his cuter face.

“You’re hot chocolate,” Pete speaks up from behind him. Ashton sometimes wonders why they always show up together. He wouldn’t put it past Pete to be lying the whole time and actually already married to Patrick.

But Patrick wouldn’t do that, he’s pretty sure. He’s too much of a good person. Like maybe Pete wasn’t so far off with the whole “Did you fall from heaven” thing.

Patrick blushes and looks down, mumbling something unintelligible.

Luke brings Patrick his smoothie, and Pete is sitting with him, talking animatedly about bass.

“Can you sing?” He asks Patrick.

“I don’t think so,” Patrick replies doubtfully.

“Sing for me!” Pete laughs happily.

“Um…” Patrick turns pink again, looking flustered. “A-are you sure? I mean I’m not that good…”

“Yeah,” Pete tells him. “I’d love to hear you sing.”

Ashton sighs. Pete is probably a master at seduction.

Then Patrick sings and the coffee shop goes dead quiet.

“ _Is this the real life? Or this just fantasy? Caught in a landslide, no escape from reality…”_

“Holy motherfucking jesus,” Pete says. “Marry me.”

“BE IN OUR BAND PLEASE,” Michael jumps over the counter, landing on Patrick’s lap.

“Fuck no, I call dibs,” Alex announces, slamming his hand down on the table in a “so there” gesture.

“Babycakes,” Calum sighs loudly. “Calm yourselves.”

“I’m not your ‘babycakes’,” Luke protests.

“That’s right, you’re Ashton’s.”

Luke turns pink and Ashton has no time to try and decide what that meant before Pete leans forward and kisses Patrick’s cheek sloppily.

Patrick blushes ruby red, and shoots up. “Um thanks you guys, yeah, I have a… thing to go to, bye.” He rushes out. Pete watches him go fondly.

“That boy’s going places. Just you see.”

“Yeah places like into your bed,” Jack mutters.

Pete nods. “Yes. But also other places. Like, stage places.”

“I’ve always wanted to have sex on a stage,” Luke says thoughtfully. Ashton makes a mental note to keep that in mind for when him and Luke have a spare stage around.

“I am _not_ just using ‘Trick for sex,” Pete sounds scandalized. “I _am in love.”_

 _“_ That’s nice,” Michael claps him on the back. “Keep it up.”

The door chimes and Tattoo and Afro come in (possible Joe and Andy – they have not finalized this yet) occupied by the Twins, who Ashton didn’t even notice left.

“Have you gotten him yet?” Afro asks, looking at Pete.

“No. It’s just a matter of time.”

“Hard times come, good times go…” Andy mutters. Pete rolls his eyes at them.

Ashton watches Luke smile at him, his fucking tongue flicking out to play with that fucking lip ring. He’s gonna die. Literally, someday, Luke’s going to kill him.

But hey, at least he’ll die happy.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> they do weird shit sometimes.

“It’s a little faded…”

Ashton glares at Michael. “No way, nerd.”

“Hey,” he says, but doesn’t seem that offended. “Are you going to redye it?”

“Nope, I’m not you.”

“Jeez, someone’s a little snappy today. Are you on your man period or what?”

Ashton rolls his eyes. “No. I’m just grumpy.”

Well, sort of. Mostly sexually frustrated. Luke had crawled into bed with him last night because of “nightmares” (Ashton didn’t think this was true; he had heard Luke giggling at Wizards Of Waverly Place like five minutes before he came into the room. But whatever, if Luke wanted to sleep with him, he was completely and totally fine with it, oh yes) and then had proceeded to sort of spoon Ashton, and do this thing where he nibbled on his neck.

Safe to say that Ashton was tired, due to Luke’s _fondling,_ and sexually frustrated, and irritated because Michael kept blabbering on about Twin 1 or Twin 2 (he’s not sure which). It’s all very well and good for _him,_ he’s straight (or at least sort of straight. Ashton will never forget that night – he shudders just thinking about it) and he has two people who love him that look exactly the same. Meanwhile, Ashton the Homosexual over here has to worry about Luke, who there’s only one of, and who’s probably straight. Though Ashton totally caught him checking out Pete. But that’s nothing, they all check out Pete.

Well, except for Patrick. Patrick just gazes at Pete worshippingly. If they don’t get together Ashton might kill someone.

He makes a mental note to stop caring about coffee shop drama. What is this, a fucking soap opera?

His thoughts are interrupted at Luke comes out of the back of the shop, wearing an apron and no shirt.

Michael smirks and takes off his shirt too, and yeah Ashton could have probably done without that, but Michael’s not that bad looking, really. Then Calum follows and _damn,_ has he been working out lately or something? Ashton’ll have to join him.

“Whoa,” he says loudly as the shirtless parade continues. “Guys, what are you doing? We can’t do that.”

“Speak for yourself, babycakes,” Calum winks lewdly. “I can go without a shirt as long as I please.”

“Yeah,” Michael nods. “Too punk rock for clothing.”

Luke just shrugs. “Sorry, Ash, I was hot.”

“Yes, you are,” Ashton mutters. Michael hears him and shoots him a weird look.

But Luke is. He’s slightly tan (once again, when did Luke prance around shirtless enough to get a tan? And why wasn’t Ashton there?) and he doesn’t have like, abs, but that’s okay because they kind of scae Ashton anyways. But he’s all tall and lithe and lean and okay, this is not helping with his sexual frustration at all.

“C’mon, Ash, jump on the band wagon,” Michael tells him.

Ashton sighs heavily and takes off his shirt, noticing Luke gaping at him. What? Was he fat?

He anxiously checked. No, he looked good, he thought.

“Damn, Ashton,” Calum raises his eyebrows. “If I was gay… mhm.”

“Oh my god,” Michael says. “Shut up, Cal. I want him.”

“What?” Luke protests. “No, he’s mine.”

“I’m no one’s,” Ashton shakes his head, hiding behind his apron. “Stop looking at meee!”

“Sorry,” Michael tells him, not sounding sorry at all. “Was just appreciating the view.”

“Same,” a voice speaks up from behind him. Ashton jumps and turns around. Pete is grinning at him suggestively. “You’re pretty fine.”

“Okay, time for the shirt to come back on,” Ashton announces, yanking back on his Blink shirt.

“Aww, you ruined it Pete!” Calum pouts.

“I feel like a pervert,” Pete sighs. “How old are you anyways?”

“Twenty,” Ashton tells him.

“Oh, well , that’s not that bad, I guess. I’m twenty seven, I think,” Pete frowns. “Anyways. Could I have a hot chocolate please?”

Ashotn jots it down on his cool little notepad, then hands it to Michael, who gets to work.

“So what’ve you been up to, mate?” Ashton asks, resting his cheek on his palm.

Pete shrugs. “Nothing much. Stalking Patrick. Making music. The usual.”

“Ooo, how’s Peterick?” Michael asks, peeping up from behind the wall.

“It’s getting there,” Pete beams. “He wants me.”

“Sure,” Ashton says agreeably. “Alright.”

The door chimes and speak of the devil, it’s Patrick.

His gaze goes to Pete immediately. “Oh. Hi.”

“Hi,” Pete grins at him. “Do you have a sunburn or are you always this hot?”

Patrick turns red, and coughs. “Um. No. Yes. I mean…”

Pete laughs. “Do you have a map? I’m getting lost in your eyes.”

To Ashton’s great amusement, Patrick fumbles in his pocket and shoves a tiny pocket map into Pete’s hand.

Pete unfolds it, stares at it a bit and then lights up. “That might’ve been the most perfect thing someone has ever done.”

Ashton’s pretty sure Patrick will be pink for the rest of his life. Even his ears are red on the tips.

“Just fucking get together already,” Luke mutters as he hands Pete his hot chocolate.

Ashton nods in agreement. Michael shouts, “I could say the same for you two! Lashton equals forever!”

Now Luke’s the one who’s blushing, and Ashton kind of wants to hit Michael now, but then it’s all okay because he smiles at him shyly and his heart stutters. Okay, maybe he wants to kiss Michael. But after he kisses Luke. For a long time.

“Um,” Luke stammers. “Uh.”

Ashton looks down and quickly asks Patrick what he wants.

**

There’s a new boy in the coffee shop.

He’s got spiky blonde hair and blue eyes and looks kind of like the perfect stereotypical surfer dude, only more boyish.

Him and Twin 1 get along well. Really well.

Ashton watches as Twin 1 goes over and talks to Blondie, who is looking deeply involved in his novel (probably something incredibly classy, like “Poetry” or something) and asks him something. They look up. Ashton swears little thumping hearts appear.

Twin 2 is behind them, scribbling something down on her notepad. Notepads are the best. Ashton loves notepads.

“Hey,” Blondie smiles at Twin 1. Ashton should probably stop creeping but whatever. “I’m Ross.”

“Katie,” Twin 1 tells him.

Ashton’s mouth drops open. “LUKE! CAL! MICHAEL! WE’VE GOT IT!”

Luke comes running out. “What? What?”

“Her name!” Ashton jubilantly points to Katie. “Her name is Katie!”

Katie looks alarmed. “Shit.”

Blondie (Ross) looks confused. “What?”

She shakes her head. “Nothing, nothing.”

“Now we just need to know your name,”  Ashton grins, pointing at Twin 2. Or was it Twin 1? He doesn’t really know anymore. But Katie was the one Michael liked.

Oh. Poor Michael.

Ross and Katie start chatting about something and Twin 2 comes over to chat with him.

“Ten bucks says they get together by the next two weeks,” Ashton says.

She tilts her head, observing. “Fifteen says by the end of the week.”

“You’re on.”

They shake hands.

Brendon makes an appearance, lacking a puppy. Ashton is a little disappointed – Panic was cute – but at the same time relieved. Fur doesn’t go that well with coffee, actually.

“Hi!” He bounces up to the counter, grinning like someone just told him he won the lottery.

“Hi,” Ashton nods.

“Could I haaaaave…. a  smoothie? Please? A blueberry one?”

Ashton nods. “Sure.”

Brendon leans forward and kisses him on the cheek before bouncing back to a seat.

“I love that boy,” Michael shakes his head fondly.

Ashton shrugs. He doesn’t like to pick favorites of the customers, but he probably likes Patrick or Brendon the best, to be honest.

 Once all the customers were dealt with, Luke and Ashton leaned against the back of wall, out of site.

“No, but what’s their ship name?” Luke asks, his eyebrows creasing with thought.

“Koss? Ratie? Rotie? Kass?” Ashton suggests, tapping his chin.

“I like Kass. I don’t know. Ratie is nice, too.”

“Hmm… Well, whatever they end up being, I hope Michael’s alright.”

Luke snorts. “He’ll be fine. He’s already all over Twin 2, anyways.”

Ashton looks up to find Michael talking earnestly to Twin 2, who’s nodding her head and looking concerned.

“Do you think he’s pulling the “I have a disease called insert-a- disease- that- doesn’t- exist-here and I’m dying in two weeks” card?”

Luke chuckles. “Maybe. Or maybe he’s just being nice.”

“Michael?” Ashton asks doubtfully. “Maybe.”

“I have faith in Michael,” Luke nods.

Ashton decides that Luke can keep being innocent. He didn’t find Michael _that night._

Luke notices Ashton’s shudder. “Are you cold?”

Before he can protest, Luke’s slipping his cute blue sweater over his head and giving it to Ashton.

He swears his heart is beating so hard that Luke can probably hear it, and he slips it over his head, trying not to giggle girlishly.

“It looks good,” Luke says shyly. Ashton turns red.

You know, maybe there is hope after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi omg this isn't that long but i leave tomorrow morning for a week with no internet so have this im sorry


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which shit happens

 “I know you like Luke.”

Ashton looks up so fast his neck hurts. “What?”

Michael’s standing there, all smirkety smirk. Has Ashton mentioned he hates smirking? Because he does, a fucking lot.

“I know you have the hots for Luke, Ash. No denying it.” He smirks again (Ashton’s hands curl into fists. Fucking smirks) and props his hand on his hip, all business like. “I have my ways. Also I’m pretty sure he likes you too.”

“Psh,” Ashton snorts loudly, accidentally making a few customers look over at them. “No, he doesn’t. He’s straight.”

Michael snorts even louder than he did, if that’s even possible. “About as straight as those bendy rulers.”

Ashton just shakes his head.

“Dude,” the now green haired boy sighs loudly (Ashton’s pretty sure he stole the green from him but whatever), “We totally slept together back in highschool.”

“What?” Ashton squawks loudly. “We did not! I would have remembered this!”

Michael rolls his eyes. “Not you and me, dumbass, Luke and I.”

“Oh, good. Wait, what? Luke said you were straight! What?”

He cackles, rather like a witch. Ashton is briefly faced with the disturbing image of Michael in a pointy black hat riding a broom around.

“We fucked. Did the fricklefrackle. The dirty deed. The “Sock Hose.” The Electra.”

“What the fuck,” Ashton mutters. “No one calls it “the Sock Hose”. Or“The Electra,” for that matter. What does that even mean?”

Michael just winks at him. Ashton decides he hates everything. And he’s also kind of really fucking jealous.

**

“We’re having a party.”

Okay, so like Ashton is so literally done with news right now. After the little bombshell of Michael and Luke apparently having sex, now Calum just goes and says this.

“Not a big one,” he hastens to say after seeing the look on Ashton’s face. “A tiny one. With just us, Brendon, Ryan, Jack, Alex, Patrick, Pete, Afro, Tattoo, and maybe the twins, I don’t know.”

“So,” Michael begins, sounding a little too casual. “Katie and Ross are dating?”

“Yep,” Luke shrugs. Fuck, even that’s hot.

“Huh,” Michael pretends to hum disinterestedly. Ashton’s pretty sure they’re all inwardly sighing right now.

They’re interrupted by Jack pushing his way through the door and for the first time in a while, he’s without Alex.

“Hey, man,” Calum nods.

“HE ASKED ME OUT,” Jack practically screams.

“What…?” Michael mutters, looking irritated.

Jack starts vibrating slightly. “Alex, Mike, Alex asked me out. It was so cute ohmygod he like, came up to me and was like “yo Jack” and I was like “sup homie” and he was like “I think I kind of like you” and I was like “haha I’ve been in love with you for seven years haha” and he was like “same” and then we kissed and I think I’m literally dying, oh my god, I’m so happy.”

“Wait, you guys weren’t already dating?” Luke asks, sounding adorably confused. Ashton wants to cuddle him under a blanket and feed him Nutella for the rest of forever.

Thank fucking god Luke isn’t a mind reader, Jesus.

“No,” Jack beams. “But we are now!”

“Well, congrats!” Calum exclaims, jumping over the counter (Luke winces as his feet touch the top; Ashton knows he’s got a problem with cleanliness). “That’s awesome! Jalex forever!”

“Yeah,” Jack beams. “I’m happy.”

They all flood Jack in happiness and affection and Calum invites him to the party that Ashton did not know they were having until five minutes ago and is apparently tomorrow.

“Fuck yeah,” Jack says breezily. “Let’s play strip Spin the Bottle.”

“We are mature, twenty year olds,” Ashton reminds him. “We do not do such childish things.”

“Ashton, you still giggle whenever you see boobs,” Michael deadpans.

Ashton turns pink. “Fuck you. What is this, rag on Ashton day?”

Luke suddenly drapes himself over his shoulder. “I won’t rag on you, Ash.”

Ashton’s like, 99% sure he’s blushing right now. “Thanks, Luke.”

Michael shoots him a look of pure joy that very obviously states, “you guys are adorable together oh my god.”

In the most manly way possible, of course. Because they are twenty year old manly men.

Sometime between two and three pm, Jack leaves and Michael drags Calum away to wherever (sometimes Ashton is curious, but most times he doesn’t want to know), leaving Luke and Ashton alone.

“Soooo,” Ashton begins casually, because he is a very casual, laidback person who can talk like this. “I’ve heard some gossip that you and Michael did the Electra.”

Ashton really wants to hit himself right now.

Luke stares at him incredulously. “’The Electra?’ The fuck is that?”

“Sex,” Ashton whispers loudly.

A look of understanding breaks out across his face. “Ohhh,” he grins. “Okay. Yeah, we did.”

Ashton swallows his disgust at the mental image of Michael and Luke fucking (though weirdly it’s kind of hot and kind of disgusting. He’s very conflicted) and nods .”Um, right, yeah, okay.”

“Highschool man,” Luke sighs. “Hormones get bat shit crazy.”

“Yep,” Ashton agrees. “Bat shit crazy is about right.”

Luke smiles at him for a minute, not saying anything. He’s got the bluest eyes Ashton’s ever seen and those fucking freckles, god.

“You have a really pretty smile,” Luke blurts, instantly turning pink as he realizes what he said. “Um, I mean…”

“Thanks,” Ashton grins, hoping he’s not too red. People can always tell when he’s blushing and it fucking sucks.

They just smile stupidly at each other for a while before someone clears their throat.

Ashton jumps and turns to find Ryan standing there, raising an eyebrow knowingly. “Hey, guys.”

“Hey, Ryan,” they say in unison. Ashton takes his order and him and Luke exchange secret smiles, except Ashton doesn’t quite know what the secret is.

“Soooo,” Ryan smiles at him. “Pete told me about this party.”

Ashton has no fucking idea how Pete even knew about it, because he hasn’t been in the shop yet, but he’s long stopped questioning where Pete gets his information.

“Yeah,” he nods. “At our… flat. Um. Yeah.”

“Okay,” Ryan grins. Ashton likes Ryan; he kind of varies between being a loveable sarcastic asshole or a loveable polite guy.

They chat for a few more minutes when Brendon comes in and the Ryan and Brendon Saga starts. In this installment, Ryan stares at Brendon whenever Brendon isn’t staring at him, and sometimes they make eye contact, blush, and look away.

“I feel sexually frustrated watching them,” Calum says out of nowhere. Ashton squeaks (in a manly way) and glares at him.

“Where the fuck did you come from?”

“Jeez,” Calum says, looking bewildered. “I was with Michael.”

Ashton groans and Luke smirks at him from across the room. For some reason, he doesn’t mind Luke’s smirks as much. They make him want to smooth his lips and kiss the smirkiness away. And possibly shove his dick in his mouth, but you know, whatever.

“No but,” Calum starts again. “We’re so playing Spin the Bottle, you’ll see. At this party, I mean.”

Ashton’s about to protest but then he looks up and Luke smiles at him with those fucking _lips_ and he thinks maybe it won’t be so bad after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not very long im sorry but i think there's only like two parts left maybe k


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> patrick gets drunk

As it turns out, Patrick is even cuter when he’s drunk.

It’s like, eight o’clock and he’s already drunk off his ass. And apparently, when Patrick’s drunk, he becomes everyone’s best friend.

“I love you so much, man,” he says, slurring his words slightly as Ashton.

“Love you too, ‘Trick,” Ashton grins.

“Fuck you, that’s my nickname for him,” Pete appears from nowhere, glaring at him. Ashton rolls his eyes and makes eye contact with Luke, who smiles at him. He smiles back.

The party is relatively chilled out; Brendon and Ryan are arguing over what’s the best pizza topping, Calum, Michael, Jack and Alex are doing some weird shit with a donut, Ashton, Patrick and Peter are sitting on the couch, Pete and Ashton enjoying Patrick’s drunker chatter. And Luke, well, Luke is across the room humming along to the music. He looks adorable concentrated on the tune, with his tongue poking out of his mouth and his eyes squeezed shut.

“Peeeete,” Patrick whines, tugging on Pete’s sleeve. “Can you go get me another drink?”

Ashton and Pete have already agreed on not letting him have another drink, but of course Pete crumbles immediately.

“Okay,” he agrees. “I’ll be back.”

Ashton sighs heavily when the sofa dips and Luke sits next to him, smiling at him shyly.

“Hey, Ash.”

“Hey, Lukey,” Ashton hums casually. He’s getting fucking turned on by just Luke’s voice. This is getting ridiculous.

Ashton’s pretty sure they were going to have a really deep conversation about love and life that would result in sex (he can fantasize, okay) when Michael says loudly, “Let the kissing games begin.”

He’s like, seventy five percent sure this is just a heist to get Luke and himself together but whatever.

“This is so fucking immature,” Ryan mutters as he scoots his butt into the circle. He can talk all he wants, Ashton’s seen him gaze at Brendon’s lips. The boy is a goner.

“Shut the fuck up,” Michael rolls his eyes. “Fun is mandatory. Have fun, god dammit.”

“Whoop di doo,” Alex mutters.

Ashton knows they’re just being all snappy because they can’t act excited to play Spin the Bottle, even if they are. It’s just not done. Everyone acts reluctant even if they really want to make out with someone.

“I’ll go first,” Michael announces, spinning the beer bottle. It lands on Calum.

“Well,” the dark haired boy grins. “Looks like you’re gonna have to kiss me, Mikey.”

Michael smirks. Ashton becomes suspicious.

Calum leans across the circle and kisses Michael sweetly, and now he’s pretty sure they have a thing, because no way does Michael ever kiss that sweetly.

The kissing continues on for a bit, and Ashton’s not too interested because so far his OTPs (Pete and Patrick and Brendon and Ryan) haven’t had to kiss, and the bottle hasn’t landed on him.

Then Pete spins and the bottle lands on him (Ashton) and well, it could be worse because Pete is pretty fucking hot.

His lips are kind of rough and slightly chapped, and he tastes like a mix of like, sunscreen and hot chocolate, which shouldn’t work but actually kind of does.

They break apart, breathing a little more heavily than before and Ashton notices Luke’s jaw is tight and his fists are clenched. He’s glaring at Pete like he wants to kill him. He wonders what that’s about.

“Whoo! Getting steamy!” Jack cheers, grinning hugely.

“Okay,” Pete shrugs, apparently not noticing the look of death Patrick is totally giving Ashton right now. He’s so jealous it hurts.

Ashton spins the bottle and it lands on Patrick.

“Fuck yeah,” he accidentally says, but c’mon, everyone wants to kiss Patrick. Michael, Calum, Pete and Alex are nodding in agreement to his statement. Patrick just looks confused.

Ashton happily scoots over to him and kisses him, and _fuck,_ his lips are really soft and they move beneath Ashton’s wonderfully and he tastes like powdered sugar and peach schnapps and maybe he shouldn’t let Pete choose Patrick’s drinks anymore.

The point is, kissing Patrick is like a little piece of heaven and he totally wouldn’t mind if it dragged on for a while more, but sadly Patrick pulls away, looking flustered.

“Um,” he stutters, his lips looking a little swollen and his cheeks red. “Um…”

“Can we all just fuck Patrick?” Brendon wonders aloud.

“Yeah,” Pete agrees, Ryan nodding in agreement.

“Let’s gang bang him,” Alex suggests.

Patrick emanates a tiny shriek and curls into a ball. “Go away! You are not gang banging me!”

“Awh, we’re sorry ‘Trick,” Pete soothes. “We wouldn’t really gang bang you.”

“Yes we would,” Michael mutters. Pete glares at him as Patrick squeaks and hides in his chest.

Ashton decides that Drunk Patrick is even more adorable than sober Patrick, and also really cuddly. He likes it.

This leads to him wondering what Drunk Luke was like. Maybe he turns into a dominatrix and brings out these whips and –

He swallows. Better to save that for later.

Ashton steals a look at Luke, who is sitting on his hands and now glaring at Patrick. He looks really fucking cute in this light, knees up by his head and hair kind of flattened against his forehead. Really young, that’s how he looks. Ashton wants to have sex with him.

Well, Ashton always wants to have sex with him. But this is like, double that. Which is pretty intense.

While he zoned out, Brendon and Alex have kissed, and Ryan and Patrick.

Patrick spins the bottle and it lands on Pete.

Ashton’s pretty sure you could hear a pin drop.

“Um,” Patrick says. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Pete says, grinning hugely before leaning forward and kissing Patrick enthusiastically. It lasts far longer than it needs to, and then they kind of start moving and whoa, Patrick’s hand is _so_ inside Pete’s shirt right now.

“Okay, okay,” Michael cuts in, waving his hands around. “Break it up, break it up.”

Patrick retreats, his hair mussed and his eyes bright. His pupils are also kind of dilated. Ashton inwardly snickers.

Pete looks like somebody just punched him in the face with a kitten. His nose is scrunched with absolute joy.

“I love you,” he announces, flopping across the circle and into Patrick’s lap.

Patrick looks amused and starts playing with Pete’s hair.

“Who needs love,” Michael mutters, rolling his eyes at them.

“We do,” Calum says, poking him. Michael blushes and Ashton is completely sure they have a thing now, because Michael Clifford doesn’t blush.

Luke and Ashton exchange a knowing look, and has Ashton ever mentioned he loves how him and Luke can have a conversation with just their eyes? Because he does, it’s the best.

“Hey, stop undressing each other with your eyes and come play,” Brendon butts in, giggling. “Luke, Pete has to kiss you.”

Pete leans over to Luke and smacks his lips and wow, okay, Ashton is very not okay with this. This weird burning sensation fills his stomach and he curls his hands into fists, his nails biting into his skin hard enough to leave little white crescents on his palm.

He hates seeing somebody kiss Luke that isn’t him, hates it with a passion –

“Ash?”

Ashton’s yanked from his internal narrating to see the bottle pointing at him, with Luke smiling at him bashfully.

Fuck.


	6. the end

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the end

“Whoo!” Alex cheers loudly, ignoring the sudden tension that’s filled the room.

“Um,” Luke stammers, a light pink blush spreading across his cheeks. “Okay.”

 _Maybe he doesn’t want to kiss me,_ Ashton thinks, his face falling.

But then Luke’s lips are on his and it’s… it’s…

Luke’s lips are soft, but a tiny bit chapped, and they seem to fit right into Ashton’s, falling into place like puzzle pieces. He tastes like vanilla ice cream, and chocolate and Ashton can feel the blood pumping through his head and he hesitantly raises his arms around Luke’s waist, feeling the warmth of his skin burn his palms. But in a good way, like the way a warm cup of coffee feels on a rainy afternoon.

Slowly, softly, Luke’s tongue meets Ashton’s and wow, okay, he never wants to stop kissing Luke ever.

Suddenly somebody really fucking annoying (it turns out to be Ryan) tugs on his shoulder and forces them apart.

Ryan rolls his eyes. “I know you two have had the hots for each other for months now but please, go somewhere else for this.”

Ashton turns red and Luke just looks down and mumbles something. They retreat back to their spots in the circle.

For the rest of the game, Ashton’s kind of floating around in his head, unsure of who’s kissing who (except for the part where Patrick takes his shirt off – he won’t forget that) and feeling kind of fluffy. Not like, actual fluffy but like his head is full of cotton candy dreams about Luke. That kind of fluffy.

And things like, 1) why has Ryan said they liked each other? Yes, Ashton liked Luke, maybe even loved Luke, but Luke didn’t like him.

There’s actually nothing else to add to the list but still. He feels confused.

Sometime after midnight, Michael and Pete announce the game is over. Ashton’s stared having a headache and just wants to curl up in his bed and cry. He isn’t sure where the tears came from – maybe it’s just been a long day and kissing Luke has finally allowed him to fully taste the thing he can never have. It hurts, in a weird kind of way. Like he’s missing something he never knew he didn’t have. But  now the lack of Luke next to him and how his hands feel cold without Luke’s hands in them and his arms feel empty, without him in them. It’s a weird feeling, missing something you’ve never experienced.

Ashton sighs heavily. Life sucks.

“You okay?”                                                                                                           

He looks up to find Luke’s bright blue eyes watching him in concern.

“Yeah, yeah,” he nods, hoping it sounds convincing. “Definitely completely fine.”

Luke raises an eyebrow. “You don’t sound fine.”

Ashton nods again. “Well, I am.”

Luke snorts and sits next to him on the couch. The room’s cleared out by now, devoid of anyone but them.  “You’ve always been terrible at lying, Ash.”

He blushes. “Oh…”

“So what’s wrong?”

Ashton figures that he can tell Luke in a way that doesn’t reveal that the person is him. “Do you ever know someone who’s everything you want and everything you can’t have?”

Luke meets his gaze with something unreadable in his blue eyes. “Oh, do I.” He laughs and it’s not Luke’s laugh, it’s something bitter and hard. “I know all too well.”

“Yeah,” Ashton nods, sighing. “It’s the worst thing.”

“It’s like being in a record store with no money,” Luke compares, knocking his shoulder against Ashton’s. “Fucking sucks, man. So who’s your everything?”

“Oh,” Ashton exhales. “He’s perfect.”

“He?” Luke’s eyebrows shoot upwards in surprise.

“Mhm,” Ashton hums in agreement. “Yeah. A guy. And he’s so… sunshiney, Lukey, he has this golden hair and these sky colored eyes and just. Fuck.”

Luke looks kind of confused. “Yeah? What else?”

“He loves all the same bands I do and he’s just… the way he smiles and how he acts and his favorite color, everything is so perfect in the most imperfect way.”

“Do you love him?”

Ashton sighs and slumps against the couch. “I think so.”

Luke’s eyes are bright right now, like insanely bright. Like new pennies. Ashton stares into them, wondering what’s going on.

He blinks and with a start, Ashton realizes they’re tears.

“Luke?” He asks worriedly. “What’s wrong?”

“N-nothing,” he manages, blinking down at the floor. His head is hung low for a second before he looks up. “Is it me?”

And… wait what?

“What?” Ashton asks, his head spinning.

“Is it me? Who you were just describing?”

His face pales and it’s kind of like, should he tell the truth or should he lie, should he risk the crushing pain of rejection or the regret that’d surely come in a couple of years?

“Yeah,” he says, not meeting Luke’s gaze. He doesn’t know why he was crying before but he’s kind of crying himself, now. This is getting so dramatic. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles, stumbling up and running out the door. He’s kind of drunk, yes, but clear headed enough.

It’s raining outside and it’s kind of cold so Ashton hugs his thin hoodie to him tighter as he walks, yanking his hood up over his messy hair.

“Fuck!” He abruptly yells, kicking at the air. This is so fucking lame. Literally, it’s so unfair because like, sure Luke is bi or gay or whatever the hell but he’d never like Ashton. Ever. Every time someone likes him, he’s just really surprised because he has literally nothing to him, besides drumming. Jasmine, his ex and his longest relationship, had made sure he’d known that when they broke up and maybe it stuck but whatever the reason, the point is that Luke can’t like him back. It’s physically impossible.

Sometime along his angry walking, his tears had turned into sobs and sits on the edge of the sidewalk, hugging his knees into him and trying not to act totally pathetic.

He doesn’t see or hear Luke till the boy’s right next to him, usually styled quiff plastered against his forehead with the rain. An ominous crack of thunder rings through the air.

“Ashton!” Luke puffs, collapsing next to him on the sidewalk.

“Go away,” Ashton moans. He doesn’t need this, the pain or the embarrassment. The ache of not having Luke has only gotten stronger.

“No,” Luke insists. “I need to _talk_ to you.”

“That’s okay,” Ashton still doesn’t look up. “I already know what you’re  going to say and I really don’t want to hear it because I know you’re gay or bi or whatever, which I hadn’t know before but thanks to Michael and his big mouth, I do now, but I know you don’t like me and I would really love to be spared this conversation.”

Luke starts laughing.

Ashton bites his lip to keep from breaking out in sobs again. Fuck that. Who the fuck _laughs_ in this situation?

Suddenly Luke’s long fingers are pushing Ashton’s chin up to meet his eyes. “Ashton, you’re wrong. I don’t not like you.”

Double negatives really confuse Ashton but maybe he can understand this one. Maybe.

“What?”

“Silly,” Luke’s mouth crinkles into a smile. “I _like_ you. Like, _like like.”_

Ashton stares at him for like five seconds before it clicks and a wide smile spreads across his face. “Oh. Wait. You do?”

He rolls his eyes. “Yes, dumbass. You’re my record store I have no money in.”

Suddenly it all kind of snaps together and Ashton grins again, this time the smile spreading  up to his eyes. Luke kind of feels like the sun’s coming out.

“I like you, too,” Ashton beams.

“I love you,” Luke admits, shrugging.

“Same,” Ashton agrees.

They grin at each other.

“Sooo…” Luke leans forward a bit. Ashton remains oblivious.

“So, wanna head back?”

“Oh my _god,”_ Luke rolls his eyes. “Kiss me, you nerd.”

“That really made it unromantic – “

Luke cuts him off with his lips and wow, his lips are still as addictive as before, with the added taste of rainwater and they’re both cold but really, there’s no one else he’d rather be cold and wet with.

**

“You know, it took a really long time for you guys to get together.”

“Yeah,” Pete shrugs. “At least we weren’t Dumb and Dumber over there ,though.”

Michael and Pete very unsubtly look at Ashton and Luke.

“At least,” Michael agrees.

Luke rolls his eyes at them and Ashton just doesn’t even care, because Luke is like, massaging little circles into his hip bone and if he doesn’t stop that right the fuck now they’re going to have a problem. A _big_ problem, if you know what I’m saying.

“All we have left to get together is Brendon and Ryan,” Luke murmurs in his ear. The sound and sensation causes shivers to race up and down his spine. He’s whipped. It’s sad.

But also really awesome, too.

“Nah, not really,” Pete says happily, a grin spreading across his face. There are suspicious looking bite marks along his collarbone. Patrick and him obviously got up to things last night. Ashton doesn’t even want to know.

“What do you mean?” Calum asks, hopping up onto the counter.

They’re interrupted as the door to the coffee shop chimes and Brendon walks in next to Ryan, wearing his sweater. Everyone knows its Ryan’s sweater, too, because who else would have a fucking sweater with flugelhorns on it?

“Whoa,” Michael holds his hands up. “Whoa, man. What is going on?”

Brendon turns a delicate pink and leans into Ryan, who also looks embarrassed.

“Um… well, um…”

“I think we all know,” Pete winks lewdly.

Everyone starts giggling and like, they really are like a bunch of teenage girls. It needs to stop.

Luke smiles at Ashton over the counter as his sleeve rides up, he sees something. A tiny, fingernail sized cup of coffee on his elbow.

His tattoo.

And well, Ashton considers as Jack and Alex bound in and Brendon and Ryan are talking quietly in the corner, and Pete’s leaning against the counter texting Patrick and Calum and Michael are whacking each other in the arms and Luke looks at him with his crinkly eye smile, maybe romance novels aren’t so bad after all.

 

 

(fin)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im sorry that was sooo cliche omg ahuiebrfsd


End file.
